


Of Eggnog, Snow, and Mistletoe

by kyasurin_chan



Category: Lie to Me (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyasurin_chan/pseuds/kyasurin_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title is more or less self-explanitory. Written for Yuletide 2010.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Eggnog, Snow, and Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nullus_anxietas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nullus_anxietas/gifts).



If there was one thing that Cal hated about winter, it was all the bloody snow. Sure, it looked wonderful on Christmas cards and in movies, covering the ground in a blanket of white that had been immortalized in countless holiday favorites, but having to actually traipse through it was a completely different story. In person, snow stuck to everything – shoes, coats, pants, hats, scarves – making him cold, wet and miserable.   
That distaste for snow was exactly what had him grumbling when he walked in to the office on the evening of December 23rd. A storm had unexpectedly blown in earlier that day, covering the ground with a solid two inches and counting of snow, just in time for the city to have a white Christmas. Unfortunately for Cal, it also meant shoveling out in the miserable cold. In his opinion, things were much easier without the burden of a ‘white’ Christmas.  
That wasn’t to say, however, that Cal hated Christmas; he actually rather liked Christmas. It was just certain aspects of the season that he hated, like snow and the commercialization of the holiday. Though there had been a brief time in his adult life where he had despised the holiday and the bittersweet memories it brought, but that had all changed when Emily was born. The moment his daughter was old enough to understand what Christmas was, he fell in love with the way her eyes lit up at the mere mention of the holiday. After that, Emily quickly made up for all his bitter memories with joyous ones that were truly fitting of the season.  
Of course, things had changed since then. Emily was older, but she still had some of that childish enthusiasm and sparkle in her eye when the holidays came around. He had to admit that he probably had a similar light in his eyes, too, though he would never admit it, and, in spite of himself, the holiday was something he very nearly cherished.   
In front of his staff, however, he loved to play the part of scrooge. He liked to command respect – and perhaps a bit of fear as well – at work, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to do that if he went skipping around handing out candy canes and hanging mistletoe. Plus, he loved pretending to be cranky and cynical; it was his true nature and something that people expected of him. He certainly couldn’t have people thinking he had gone soft by getting all sentimental at Christmas time.  
That was why he chose to play up his grumbled complaints about the holidays as he walked into the office that morning. He knew that around the corner was a hallway filled with decorations Christmas cheer just waiting to ambush him. The sound of the annual Lightman Group Christmas party drifted from the main hallway to his ears. The party was already in full swing as he turned the corner to into hall where the party was set up – he was late as usual. Someone – probably Foster – had put on a CD of Christmas carols in the background and he could smell the sweet aroma of pine and gingerbread before he even began to approach the party.  
Naturally, the annual Christmas party had been Foster’s idea, and it dated back to the company’s very first year. Cal hadn’t been vey keen on the idea of the party, but at the time he was easily persuaded by how excited Foster seemed be about it, on top of that, he was still grateful to her for going into business with him in the first place. After that first year, it got out of his hands and become an annual thing that people came to expect. He supposed it was tradition now.   
He had to admit that Gillian had really outdone herself this year. Given the financial issues they had been having over the past year, he’d had his doubts that they would be able to afford to fund a party that would even be comparable to parties past. But Gillian had been determined not to let their financial situation spoil any of the holiday festivities. She had given herself a modest budget and he knew she had spent weeks stretching that money as far as she could. And whatever she couldn’t afford, she convinced other people to bring in or paid for out of her own pocket. Her dedication had paid off too: the place looked incredible.   
The huge Christmas tree in center of the room was the focal point of the scene, embellished with tinsel, glittering ornaments of purple, red, and silver, and paper snowflakes reminiscent of the ‘present’ he gave Loker last year. Next to the tree was a small table piled with gifts for the Secret Santa exchange that went hand in hand with the Christmas party. A few scattered poinsettia plants were scattered across the room – under the tree, next to the door, on the gift table – and they complimented the little red berries on the garland that adorned the walls. It seemed as if Foster had thought of nearly everything; he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had literally decked the halls with boughs of holly.   
Then there was Foster herself. If her outfit last year had been wonderful, then the outfit she was wearing this year was nothing short of breathtaking. This year’s dress was what someone with a more extensive knowledge of colors than Cal might have described as a royal blue. It was cut in a low scooping neckline that showed off just enough cleavage and brought attention to the enticing skin of her clavicle, though in all likelihood she had probably meant to draw attention to the silver necklace that rested just below the hollow of her collarbone. The fabric looked like satin – though he couldn’t be certain without touching it, something he would have to make an excuse to do later that evening – and, like everything else she wore, it clung to her body in all the right places, emphasized the attractive shape of her figure.   
“Hey, glad you could finally make it. Get caught in the snow?” Gillian teased, ignoring his blatant staring as she approached him. She knew full well that the snow had nothing to do with it; he was late on purpose just as he was every other year.  
“Yeah, something like that,” He answered, still eyeing her up and down rather obviously.  
“Would you like something to eat?” She asked, gently nudging his arm to draw his attention to her face. She gave him a mildly reproachful look when he finally met her eyes, but he knew she didn’t really mind his staring; she had long gotten used to it and he suspected that she was rather flattered by it.   
“What have you got?” It was only at her suggestion of food that he finally noticed the buffet – and that was really what it was – table over in the corner of the room. As she led him over to it, he couldn’t help but be a little impressed by the wide spread of Christmas themed treats laid out there. As was nearly obligatory of a Christmas party, there was a plate stacked high with gingerbread men, gingersnaps, cinnamon cookies, frosted sugar cookies in the shape of snowflakes, and several other cookies that Cal couldn’t name. There was a bowl of fruit salad, and a bowl of what looked to Cal like Christmas pudding. But what really captured his attention what the punch bowl of eggnog in the center of the table that looked almost like it had been waiting for his arrival. He pointed to it and asked, “Is that, by any chance, spiked?”  
“You mean does it have scotch in it? Yes.” Gillian clarified and Cal grinned at her answer.  
“Alright then, now it’s a party.” He reached forward for a cup – they matched the fancy-looking glass bowl the eggnog was in – and served himself a liberal amount.  
“That’s alright, Cal, I can get some myself,” Gillian taunted as he put the glass to his lips. He paused for a moment, looking between her and the glass, then took a sip – savoring the warmth of the scotch that warmed him significantly after being outside – before holding it out to her.  
“Oh, that’s the stuff. Would you like some eggnog, my dear?” Gillian rolled her eyes and flashed a dazzling grin at him.  
“No thanks, I’ve already had some. I was here on time, you know.” But she didn’t hesitate to lean over Cal to grab a snowflake cookie, and bit into it with enthusiasm.  
“Yeah, yeah, patience is a virtue Foster, you can’t rush good looks like these,” He commented, momentarily straightening up from his usual slouch and striking a pose that made Gillian laugh outright. “You look lovely, by the way.”  
“Oh, thank you.” Gillian smiled and Cal caught just the slightest hint of a blush coloring her cheeks, though she tried to hide it behind her cookie.  
“Where’s Em then? I don’t see her.” Cal asked, as he scanned the crowd before them.  
“Oh, she’s around here somewhere.” Gillian said, nibbling delicately at her cookie and waving her free hand dismissively, “I met Liam by the way.”  
“Yeah?” Cal raised an eyebrow in question, “And?”  
“And he seems like a nice boy. He certainly makes Emily happy.”  
“The key word there, darling, is ‘seems.’ Trust me, teenage boys are nasty, deceptive things,” Cal asserted with a shake of his head and a sagely look of wisdom. Gillian though, could tell by his face and posture that Cal did have a certain amount of something nearing respect – or, as close as Cal could get to respecting one of his daughter’s boyfriends. – for Liam.  
“Be honest, Cal. You like him.”  
“No I don’t. I hate all of Emily’s boyfriends equally,” he defended.  
“You don’t dislike him. And you call him by his actual name,” Gillian pointed out, and Cal knew he was stuck. He had to admit that ever since he had discovered that this Liam kid knew more about English grammar than he did and, moreover, wasn’t a complete suck-up, he immediately won more favor that any of Emily’s other boyfriends, though that wasn’t saying much. That aside, Cal still had issues with the idea of his daughter dating in general. She was almost seventeen and starting to look at colleges, so one would think that he would have come to terms with the dating issue a long time ago but, in his mind, nobody could even come close to being good enough for Emily.   
“I... tolerate him,” Cal finally conceded with a half-shrug. Gillian was about to make a remark back to him when Loker suddenly appeared, cutting her off before she had the chance.  
“Hey, Dr. Lightman. Dr. Foster.” He greeted, then proceeded to execute a series of confusing and overly complicated gestures intended to signal to them that they were blocking the buffet table. Gillian understood and stepped out of his way, but Cal chose to antagonize him by refusing to move so that Loker had to reach awkwardly past him to get to the bowl of eggnog.  
“Nice tie, by the way.” Cal commented, nodding to Loker’s rather childish candy-cane tie. Cal thought it suited him well.  
“Oh, thanks,” Loker replied absent mindedly, far too busy trying to make as little physical contact with Cal as was possible given the situation. Loker made several attempts to ladle eggnog into his cup without spilling it or bumping into Cal, but eventually he gave up and chose to grab a cookie instead. Gillian shook her head at the both of them and tried her best to stifle a smile at the smug look on Cal’s face as he watched Loker stalk away with his consolation prize.  
“Did you remember your Secret Santa gift?” Gillian asked as Cal approached her again. “I wanted to start those before people have to leave; a couple people have mentioned to me that they need to leave early because they’re travelling tomorrow.”  
“Right then. I’ve got my gift somewhere in here,” Cal remarked, patting down his pockets until he finally located the present in his jacket pocket. He took it out with a flourish and handed it to Foster who glanced at the name.  
“It’s appropriate, I hope?” She questioned, remembering his somewhat depressing contribution last year. To be fair, it hadn’t really been his fault as there had been extenuating circumstances, but she still thought he could have tried a little harder to find something less depressing for a Christmas gift.  
“Emily picked it out, so blame her if it isn’t.” He answered. Last year he’d had been fortunate enough to pick Loker’s name for the exchange. At the time he had been excited at the prospect of picking out a gag gift, but his sudden trip to Afghanistan had ruined that plan and unfortunately he hadn’t been lucky enough to get Loker two years in a row. This year he had picked Anna’s name from the hat, and he’d had no clue what to get her. He had been thinking of just giving her a signed copy of one of his books because she seemed genuinely interested in the science, but Emily had criticized it as a conceited cop out gift. That had given the perfect excuse to enlist her in helping him find a gift, and eventually they decided on a gift card to some store that Emily seemed to think Anna would like.   
Gillian nodded her approval and deposited his gift in the center of the gift table by the tree. Then she turned toward the small crowd of employees and clapped her hands loudly to get their attention before announcing that it was time for the Secret Santa exchange. She then went on to explain that to avoid the confusion and chaos that last year’s exchange turned into, they were going to try something different this year. Cal wasn’t really paying attention to what this new method was, however, as he was too busy watching Gillian; she really did look wonderful in that dress. It was all too easy for him to get lost in watching her at times like these when she was unaware of his gaze, it was much easier to read her, and from where he was standing, it was easy and clear to see that she was truly happy and excited about the holiday.  
“Hey, Dad! I was wondering when you’d get here,” Emily said as she seemed to suddenly materialize next to him. Liam wasn’t far behind her.  
“Dr. Lightman.” Liam said by way of greeting, “It’s a nice party you have here, thank you for letting Emily invite me.”  
“Yeah, well I didn’t have much of a choice,” Cal grumbled, narrowing his eyes at both Liam and the recollection of how Emily had practically blackmailed him into letting her invite her boyfriend. Liam simply smiled at Cal in return, completely unfazed by his glare. “So where have you two been all this time then?”  
“Just, you know, around.” Emily answered evasively.   
“Around doing what?” Cal pressed, unsettled by the image the popped unbidden into his head of the two of them necking in his office – if they even called it ‘necking’ anymore.  
“Relax, dad, we were just wrapping presents in the lab. You can ask Torres, she was with us,” Emily assured him, nodding in the direction of Torres, who was just joining the group of people gathering around the gift table. Cal watched Emily and Liam’s face for a moment before deciding that she was telling the truth, then turned back and pretended to listen to the rest of what Gillian was saying.  
Somehow Gillian had divided the group of guests so that one half could get up and present their Secret Santa gift to the recipient, and then the other half of them would do the same in turn. Having not paid attention when the room had been divided, Cal opted to wait and go up with the second group.   
He was only just starting to wonder who had selected his name this year when he saw none other than Loker headed his way with a gift under his arm and an idiotic grin on his face.  
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Lightman,” Loker said in a voice that was too cheerful to be serious. Cal knew just by the self-satisfied grin on Loker’s face just what kind of a present he had received before he even opened it.  
“If this is one of those things that pop out at you when you open it, you’re fired.” Cal warned him in his best threatening boss voice, which usually worked very effectively on Loker, but not today.  
Cal weighed the package in his hand and gave it a shake before surmising that it was a book, hard cover and most likely pertaining one of those outrageous animal behavior studies Loker was always rambling about. Tearing off the whimsically decorated wrapping paper proved Cal to only be half right: it was a book, but it had nothing to do with animal studies. The book Cal held in his hands was titled “Reading the Human Face” and it was written by none other than Jack Rader himself. Cal glowered at the book as if it were the man himself, wondering where Rader had gotten the audacity to write books – books that he was sure were mediocre compared to his own.   
“I thought you might want to assess the competition.” Loker beamed.   
“Jack Rader is no competition,” Cal scoffed, “I taught him everything he knows, and it’s best that you remember if you’re thinking of jumping ship again.”  
“Nah, I’m good. I didn’t like Rader much anyway, he was too cocky. Wonder where he got that from…” Loker cracked, and then wisely retreated before Cal could respond.  
Though he would definitely give him hell about it next time he saw him, Cal had to admit that the gift really showed the progress Loker had made over the past few months: he had finally grown a pair.   
______________________________________________________________________________  
The rest of the party was relatively uneventful in comparison to Christmas parties passed: Cal hid in his office for as long as he could get away with and made a show of scoffing at the sentimentality of the holiday whenever forced – usually by Gillian – to attempt to be ‘social.’ Part of him wondered why she hadn’t given up on that idea by now, he was just as opposed to the idea every year and the end result was always the same: he would make idle chit-chat for a little while, and then sneak back to his office as soon as possible. Although Cal liked Christmas, the Christmas parties generally weren’t something he enjoyed. They were a breeding ground for lies and half-truths, filled with boring people trying to make themselves sound more interesting than they were and pretending to listen to everyone else’s boring stories. The fact that it was associated with Christmas did nothing to make social gatherings any more tolerable for Cal.  
One event that Cal did find entertaining at this particular gathering was the sudden appearance of mistletoe above one of the doorways into the main hall. More specifically, the people that happened to appear under said mistletoe.  
Torres had been engaged in a conversation with one of the new interns when Loker interrupted them to point out the plant hanging above them. The intern blushed and quickly removed himself from under the doorway – though that may have had more to do with the glare Loker shot him when Torres wasn’t looking than embarrassment – leaving Loker and Torres alone under the mistletoe. Loker raised his eyebrows suggestively at Torres, who rolled her eyes, but didn’t make any attempt to move from her location.  
Emboldened by the liquid courage he had found in the eggnog – eggnog that he must have procured when Cal hadn’t been paying attention – and the lack of disapproval on Torres’ face, Loker leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, not caring who might be watching. To the surprise of the few people who did happen to witness the scene – himself and Foster included – Torres didn’t pull back but rather leaned into the kiss, bringing a hand to Loker’s cheek as he kissed her thoroughly. It wasn’t until Gillian cleared her throat hat they seemed to remember where they were and then even Loker at least had the decency to look embarrassed before they quietly excused themselves from the situation.  
______________________________________________________________________________  
The staff were supposed to say for as long as they could to help out with clean-up, but somehow by the end of the night Cal and Gillian found themselves left alone in the building, left to do all the cleaning by themselves. Emily and Liam had beaten a hasty retreat a few hours ago, claiming that Liam needed to be home early because his family was leaving for Syracuse the next morning and since they had come to the party together, that obviously meant they were required to leave together. Cal didn’t quite buy it, but given that it was almost Christmas (and with considerable urging from Gillian) he let them go off, warning Liam not to ‘do anything he wouldn’t.’ Loker and Torres had left rather suddenly after their kiss under the mistletoe, and Cal had a sneaking suspicion as to the reasoning behind that. As for the rest of the staff, they must have gradually made excuses to leave or slipped out quietly, he wasn’t really sure. He had been paying attention to Gillian more than anyone or anything else.   
The CD in the background was on its umpteenth repeat of the night and Gillian knew all the lyrics as she sang along quietly, moving back and forth between the hall and the kitchen as she cleared plates and food off the dessert table. Cal decided that since she did most of the set-up by herself the least he could do was help her with the clean up, so he grabbed a trash bag from the break room and went about picking up any unruly wrapping paper left over from the gift exchange. It struck him as funny that his staff of grown adults – well, with the exception of Loker who was really more of a nine year old in an adult’s body – left almost as much of a mess with a few presents as a little Emily had with a whole pile of gifts on Christmas morning.   
After the wrapping paper was taken care of, Cal moved on to help Gillian over at the dessert table, but stopped when he saw that the bowl of eggnog was still nearly half-full.  
“Pity to let all this go to waste,” Cal remarked, eying the bowl, “What do you say we take this back to my place and see if we can’t finish it off?”  
“Hmm? Oh, sure. Just let me grab a container we can put it in so that it won’t spill on the way there,” Gillian said as she grabbed up the last of the serving dishes to take to the kitchen in the break room. “I’ll just be a second.”  
“Actually, why don’t you go on ahead of me, luv. I’ve got to grab something from my office.”  
“Well I can wait for you,” Gillian offered from the doorway, the stack of serving plates balanced precariously on her hip as she turned to speak to him.  
“Nah, you just go on a head. It might take me a minute. I’ll meet you at the house, alright?”  
“Okay…” Gillian nodded. Cal could see that she was reluctant and worried that there was something wrong, so he flashed her a reassuring grin, and she nodded in agreement before headed off to the break room to put away the dishes.  
Cal waited until she was out of sight, admiring the way her dress accentuated the movement of her hips as she walked, before turning on heel and heading for his office.   
______________________________________________________________________________  
When he pulled into his driveway, Cal was surprised to see that the lights in his house were on and Gillian was already inside waiting for him.  
“I hope you don’t mind; I used my spare key,” Gillian called from the kitchen as he walked in the front door. “I didn’t want to sit in the cold.”  
“No problem, that’s what I gave it to you for,” he called back, wandering into his living room and flopping onto the couch. He closed his eyes for a moment, intending to reflect on the evening’s events, and then he registered the soft sounds of Deck the Halls floating through the house. Trust Gillian to find what was very likely the one Christmas CD he owned and put it on for background music. “Nice choice of ambiance, luv.”  
“Thank you,” Gillian replied, walking in from the kitchen with two cups of eggnog in hand. She handed one to him and joined him on the couch. Cal nodded gratefully and took a sip. “Did you know that I spend nearly ten minutes looking for Christmas music before I found that?”  
“I’m not surprised; I was never really into the whole caroling thing.”  
“This isn’t caroling, Cal,” Gillian corrected him, waving her hand in the general direction of the music, “This is Christmas music. Caroling is when you go door-to-door around a neighborhood and sing for people.”  
“Well, they’re all the same songs.” Cal shrugged and took another sip of his eggnog, “I suppose you have a whole collection of this stuff at home, yeah?”  
“As a matter of fact I do,” Gillian replied with an unabashed grin that lit up her entire face. “Oh, where’s Emily? She left the party a while ago; shouldn’t she be home by now?”  
“She’s at her mum’s this week. I had Christmas last year, so I’m going over there this year,” Cal answered, placing leaning over and placing his cup on the coffee table. In the background, Jingle Bell Rock was playing and in a spontaneously playful move, Cal took Gillian’s cup from her and offered her his hand instead, “Care to dance?”  
Gillian made a sound dangerously close to a giggle as she took his hand and let him pull her to him. He settled his free hand on her hip and Gillian didn’t object when he rested his head on her shoulder as they moved to the music.  
“This one’s my favorite,” Cal murmured into her ear as the CD changed tracks the slower tune of I’ll be Home for Christmas.  
“It’s one of mine too,” Gillian whispered back. Neither of them was sure why they were whispering, but they kept it up all the same, both of them relishing the quiet and tranquility of the moment. Their movements were fluid and relaxed as they slowly swayed to the music, and Gillian exhaled heavily against him as he pulled her in closer. Suddenly he could feel her shoulders shake a little under his hands, and for a moment he wondered if she was crying.   
“You alright, darling?” He asked softly, rubbing a hand down her back. She pulled away just enough to make eye contact with him, and then Cal could see that – to his relief – she was laughing, not crying. Her laugher was contagious and he found himself laughing with her before he even knew what they were laughing about. “What?”  
“Mistletoe, Cal? Really?” Still laughing, Gillian pointed to something behind them. Cal turned to see the solitary sprig of mistletoe taped to above the living room doorway.  
“Oh, that. That was Emily’s doing. She put it up there earlier this week when Liam stopped by. She did it to get a rise out of me. I guess I forgot to take it down.” Cal explained. Then, after a moment he added, “You know, we both walked through that doorway.”  
“So we did,” Gillian agreed. Strangely enough, neither of them felt the need to point out the fact that they didn’t walk through the doorway together and therefore were never both under the mistletoe at the same time. “I guess that means we’re bound by tradition.”  
“I guess so,” Cal echoed, voice suddenly lower than it had been only a moment ago. He leaned toward her but only half way, giving her a chance to decide whether this was going to be just a friendly kiss on the cheek, or something more.   
When their lips first met, it was soft and slow, something that could have stopped at any time, but then Gillian brought her hand to Cal’s cheek and opened her mouth to him, and then the kiss quickly progressed to a level from which there was no going back. Cal slowly backed them up towards the couch, hands tangled in her hair. When the backs of his knees hit the couch he dropped down onto it, pulling Gillian down on top of him. She straddled his hips as best as her dress would allow her as she became accustomed to the feeling of him underneath her. Cal let his hands wander over her body, discovering that her dress was indeed satin and loving the newfound freedom of finally being able to touch her. His fingers played with her zipper, tugging it only halfway down her back, just enough to push the fabric off of her shoulders and kiss the skin there.  
“Cal,” Gillian groaned softly, “we should –”   
Cal hummed in agreement with the unvoiced suggestion and shifted the both of them off the couch, never taking his hands off of her as he led the way to the bedroom.  
Zoë had complained, on multiple occasions, that Cal had a propensity to watch her eyebrows, to read her, when she was standing in front of him in a thong. And she was right; he did read her during sex. Because, to him, one of the most personal parts of making love was letting down all your guards and letting your partner see everything you were feeling and to be able to read their every emotion as well. To him there was nothing more intimate than being completely honest and exposing your emotions to the one that you loved. But Zoë – whether it was because she couldn’t read people the way he could or simply because she was too enamored with keeping her secrets from him – didn’t understand. He tried to explain it to her once, because he felt that, as his wife, she deserved at least an attempt at an explanation, but she was convinced that it was just his excuse to read her and try to further destroy what little privacy she had left. She told him not to ‘give her that crap’. What it really came down to was the fact that she just didn’t trust him, which was part of why their marriage didn’t work out.  
Gillian, on the other hand, was completely different. She immediately understood without any preamble or explanation from him. What’s more was that she could read him just as well as he could her, and it was the most erotic and intimate thing he had ever experienced because – in spite of all the issues they had been though in the past year or so – they trusted each other implicitly.  
Afterwards, he more or less collapsed on top of her, burying his head into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. In the back of his mind he knew that he should probably move off of her for fear of crushing her, but Gillian felt so warm and incredible underneath him that he selfishly didn’t want to move. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind having him on top of her, even encouraging his being there by idly stroking up and down his back, fingertips sending small shivers down his spine.  
“Cal?” Gillian asked softly, brushing her lips against his ear as she spoke.  
“Hmm?” He answered lazily, still caught up in the hazy afterglow of their intimacy.  
“Not that I’m complaining – I mean, this is lovely, but what is this exactly? Is this just a one-time thing or are we…”  
Until that moment, it hadn’t even occurred to Cal that they were going to have to have this conversation. Everything had seemed so… right, for lack of a better word, that they both seemed to momentarily forget the significant line between friendship and something more that they were crossing. Though, as far as things went between them emotionally, that line had been crossed long ago, this just made it seem more… official – he supposed that was the best word for it. But although it all seemed so simple and obvious to him now, he wasn’t quite sure how to convey his thoughts in words; he had never been a master of eloquent turns of phrase. Quite to the contrary, he had a nasty habit of winding up with his foot in his mouth every time he opened it, especially around Gillian.  
“Cal,” Gillian prompted again, shaking him from his thoughts. From his position above her he could feel her starting to grow uneasy, tension slowly seeping into her previously relaxed muscles. He propped himself up on his elbow, raising his body just enough so that he could look her in the eyes when he finally answered.  
“No, darling, this isn’t just a one-time thing. I don’t think it ever could be,” He said, nearly wincing at the idea of having this one night and then never being able to touch her like this again. Now that he had this new found freedom he knew that he would be remiss if he ever gave it up. He paused for a moment before adding, “Unless this isn’t what you want…”  
The question may as well have been rhetorical because Cal knew the answer before he even asked it. He could see in her face, in her eyes that Gillian wanted this, but his purely self-serving desire to hear her say it and his fear that he didn’t really deserve her made him ask anyway.  
“No, no, this is what I want.” She assured him quickly. He smiled at the words and she smiled back, running soft a hand down his cheek, “I’ve been waiting on you finally getting the courage to make a decision and stop flitting around the playing field.” She smiled at him, running her hand down his cheek. “It certainly took you long enough.”  
“I know, I’ve been bad about that,” He admitted, nuzzling his cheek against her hand. “I’ve also been a right bastard to you lately and I hope you can forgive me.”  
“Has there ever been a time when I haven’t?” She asked. This time the rhetorical question went unanswered.   
“You’re too good for me,” Cal murmured and lowered his face to hers once again.  
“I know,” she answered lightly, leaning forward and kissing him gently on the lips.   
“Oh! I nearly forgot,” Cal exclaimed, pulling away as he suddenly remembered the plan he had had for this evening. Not that he was complaining, of course, sex with Gillian had been wonderful and he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world, but he had planned to give her a gift this evening and he had nearly forgotten. “I’ll be right back, luv.”  
Gillian pursed her lips and reluctantly unwound her arms from around him as Cal slipped out of bed, not bothering to cover himself. He stood up and glanced around the room, furrowing his brow in confusion and annoyance when he couldn’t find what he was looking for.  
“Have you seen my jacket?” Cal asked her, bending down to search under their discarded clothes for the article in question, and in the process gave her a charming view of his backside.   
“I think you left it in the living room. Why?” Gillian questioned, pulling the sheet to her chest as she sat up behind him.  
“Be right back,” Cal announced, bounding from the room without answering. Gillian briefly thought of how shocked and scarred Emily would be if she were to come home now to find her father running through the house naked. She giggled at the thought.   
Cal returned just a moment later, one hand hiding something behind his back as he walked back into the bedroom.  
“Is that a present?” Gillian inquired, trying not to sound too excited. Cal had gotten her plenty of gifts before, but the way he hid it from her and the way he walked as he held it told her that this one was special in some way.   
“Might be,” he evaded. Even as he flopped down beside her on the bed he kept his hand behind his back.  
“Well?” she prompted gently.  
“It’s not much,” he said, and she could see then that he was nervous, which really made her curious. Cal was rarely about nervous about anything, even in situations where he might be better off if he was, and he was certainly never nervous around her. “It’s just a little something to sort of apologize for being such an ass lately. I’m not even sure you’ll like it.”  
“Only one way to find out.”  
“Right then,” he agreed nervously. Then he finally took his hand from behind his back and handed her a small, blue box that Gillian immediately recognized as a jewelry box. She opened the lid slowly to reveal a small silver necklace. It was simple but elegant pendant with a single diamond resting in the center of a silver heart. She gasped quietly when she saw it.

“Oh, Cal, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a grateful kiss on the cheek. “Will you put it on for me?”  
She handed him the necklace and he obliged her. From the time he first purchased it up until just a moment ago, Cal had been worried that he made the wrong choice. He had given her gifts in the past, but never anything like this, and he was worried what she would think when she got it. On top of that, he wasn’t really sure about Gillian’s taste in jewelry. He had seen her wear very few necklaces and none of them were as cheesy and sentimental as the one he had picked out for her, but it reminded him of her when he first saw it, so he took a chance. And he was glad he did; she was genuinely happy to receive it. He was nearly worried that she was going to start crying.  
“Oh, I got you something too but I left it in the car,” Gillian said sadly when she turned to face him again. “I can go and –”  
“You don’t want to go out there now,” Cal said, nodding over to the window where it could be clearly seen that snow was coming down quickly and heavily. “You can get it in the morning if you want.”  
“Mmm.” Gillian agreed, fingers playing with her new necklace as she regarded the scene outside the window. “Don’t you just love the snow?”  
Cal very nearly laughed at that question. Gillian knew very well how he felt about snow; she had certainly heard him complain about it enough, although she didn’t share his sentiment. He knew for a fact that Gillian thought a white Christmas was far better than any other kind of Christmas. And, strangely enough, as he sat there with her, a white Christmas didn’t seem like such a bad thing. After all, it was rather nice to look at. Much like someone else he knew.  
“I know it’s a little early, but Merry Christmas, luv,” He said softly, snuggling up beside her once again and kissing her softly.  
“Merry Christmas, Cal.”


End file.
